Sin, When It Is Finished, Bringeth Forth

If Thy Desire To Raise Thy Fortunes Encourage Thy Delights To The Casts Of Fortune, Be Wise Betimes, Lest Thou Repent Too Late; What Thou Gettest, Thou Gainest By Abused Providence; What Thou Losest, Thou Losest By Abused Patience; What Thou Winnest Is Prodigally Spent; What Thou Losest Is Prodigally Lost; It Is An Evil Trade That Prodigally Drives; And A Bad Voyage Where The Pilot Is Blind.

Demean Thyself More Warily In Thy Study Than In The Street. If Thy Public Actions Have A Hundred Witnesses, Thy Private Have A Thousand. The Multitude Looks But Upon Thy Actions; Thy Conscience Looks Into Them: The Multitude May Chance To Excuse Thee, If Not Acquit Thee; Thy Conscience Will Accuse Thee, If Not Condemn Thee.

Knowledge Descries; Wisdom Applies.

Yet, Sluggard, Wake, And Gull Thy Soul No More With Earth's False Pleasures, And The World's Delight, Whose Fruit Is Fair And Pleasing To The Sight, But Sour In Taste, False As The Putrid Core: Thy Flaring Glass Is Gems At Her Half Light; She Makes Thee Seeming Rich, But Truly Poor: She Boasts A Kernel, And Bestows A Shell; Performs An Inch Of Her Fair-promis'd Ell: Her Words Protest A Heav'n; Her Works Produce A Hell.

Death's A Fable. Did Not Heaven Inspire Your Equal Elements With Living Fire Blown From The Spring Of Life? Is Not That Breath Immortal? Come; Ye Are As Free From Death As He That Made Ye: Can The Flames Expire Which He Kindled?